


The Ghosts of Luke Skywalker

by PunsBulletsAndPointyThings



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Force Ghosts, Force exhaustion, Force-Sensitive Han Solo, GFY, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post TLJ, no Skywalkers who aren't dead before TFA dies, no one who isn't dead pre TFA dies, ok well, unbeta'ed cause it's Christmas eve and I can't be bothered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 03:50:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13138479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings/pseuds/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings
Summary: Luke is tired; tired of fighting for the galaxy, tired of sacrificing his family, tired of /fighting/ his family, and his fight with Kylo leaves him drained.However, the Force is not quite finished with Luke Skywalker just yet. So it sends some help.





	The Ghosts of Luke Skywalker

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas! I swear, I'm working on the update for TOTGA, but there are still a couple scenes left, and I wanted to finish this before the TLJ buzz totally wore off.
> 
> Because I did enjoy it. Really. I just had....a lot of issues with it.
> 
> So. Yeah. Have some Luke h/c and a fix to one of my major dislikes of the plot.

“See you ‘round, kid.”

Luke let go of the Force he had been holding onto so tightly, allowing the illusion of himself to vanish as he pulled himself free of the waves and currents of the Force that swirled around him like excited creatures. It was a struggle; he had been closed off from the Force for so long, and it was not willing to let him go again so easily.

Luke felt his return to solid ground only distantly, his entire body was suddenly awash with pain, his vision darkening around the edges, and his heart kept spiking painfully in his chest. With a choked gasp, he collapsed back on his perch and tried to draw a steady breath. All around him, the Force called, loud and demanding but tempting nevertheless. It plucked at him, offering peace, release. Rest.

“Force exhaustion. S’a bitch, isn’t it?”

Luke blinked, struggling to bring his eyes back into focus on the figure bending over him.

The figure who definitely had not been there a moment before.

The blue, translucent figure.

“F-father,” Luke croaked. He tried to sit up, but his body betrayed him, his limbs leaden and unresponsive to his commands.

Above him, the ghost of Anakin Skywalker smiled and placed a surprisingly solid hand on his son’s chest, holding him in place.

“Easy now, don’t move.” He frowned. “That was incredibly dangerous, what you just did.”

Luke closed his eyes, too tired to continue fighting to keep them open. “I had to.”

“You could have gone with her. Or after her. Your X-wing is still…more or less functional, if a little wet.”

Luke said nothing. There was nothing _to_ say. Force, he was tired. He just wanted to—

“Oh no.”

Something smacked the side of Luke’s face, and then he felt the faintest trickle of energy flow into him. When he opened his eyes again, the movement felt a little easier, and Anakin was frowning at him again, hand still on Luke’s chest.

“Father—“

“I know,” Anakin said, and his voice was soft and edged with sorrow. “I know, Luke. I know it’s hard, but you can’t go yet.”

“I’m tired.” It was a plea, almost pathetic, but Luke didn’t care. “I’ve done my part. I’ve done enough.”

“That you have, young Luke,” a new voice said, a new figure appearing behind Anakin’s right shoulder, a gentle smile on his bearded face.

Lace had to resist the urge to close his eyes again, though it was not born of exhaustion this time.

“Ben.”

Ben’s smile grew at the corners of his mouth, just a little, and the expression almost reached his eyes. He looked younger than Luke had ever seen him, his face less haggard and worn down by grief and war and the harsh Tatooine desert, but his eyes were the same as they had ever been. He moved to sit beside Luke, and rested a ghostly hand on his shoulder.

“You have done well, Luke,” he said, and the gentleness in his voice made Luke’s breath hitch. He hadn’t. He had failed, and no matter what Yoda said, no matter what modicum of peace Luke might have gained as they had sat and watched the tree and Jedi texts burn, that did not change the fact that it was his failure that had put the galaxy in this position, had undone all of Ben, and Leia, and the Rebellion’s work and sacrifice. He gave in and closed his eyes.

As if sensing his thoughts, Ben squeezed his shoulder. “None of us are above failure, my Padawan,” he said softly.

“Especially not us,” Anakin snorted, wry. Then he yelped, sharp and startled, and Luke opened his eyes just in time to see the woman who had materialized behind him lowering her hand from flicking him.

“Anakin, that is not helpful,” the woman said, in a tone that allowed for no argument and that reminded Luke painfully of Leia. She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at Anakin, who looked petulant for a moment, before sighing and nodding.

“You’re right. Sorry, Padme.”

Satisfied, the woman nodded and turned her attention to Luke.

His gaze was electrifying. Luke tried to sit up again, and found that this time he could manage it, if only just. Anakin’s hand had moved to his knee, and Ben now had his hand flat in the center of Luke’s back, bracing him. Energy flowed from them both, faint but steady and warm.

The woman smiled, and it was the same smile that Luke used to see in the mirror, lifetimes ago.

“Hello, Luke.”

His throat felt thick, and he licked his lips, tasting salt. “Mother.”

The word wavered, lifting at the end like a question, and his mother’s eyes softened. She reached out, brushing ghostly fingers over his cheek. It was probably just his imagination, but Luke thought they felt warm.

“I’ve wanted to talk to you for so long,” she whispered. “But I’m not Force Sensitive. At least, not like they are.” Padme nodded at his father and Ben.”

“But…how are you here?” he asked, unable to make his voice much louder than hers. She smiled and looked around them.

“This island. It is strong in the Force. Even I can feel it.”

“It is easier for those of us who could already manifest,” Ben added, rubbing a soothing pattern against Luke’s spine with his thumb. “And makes it possible for those who might otherwise be unable to.”

“But…I’ve been here for so long.”

Ben’s eyes grew sad. “You closed yourself off from the Force. Even before you realized it, you had.”

“We’ve been trying to reach you,” Anakin said, and Luke felt phantom fingers squeeze his knee. “All of us have.”

Luke looked between the three, his teacher and his parents. “All of you? Who—“

“Dammit, kid, what I have told you about being stupid and heroic?!”

Luke froze as the familiar voice echoed from behind him. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even begin to think about moving. His mother squeezed his hand, but he couldn’t return the gesture.

At last, he heard a frustrated huff, and felt then new presence move until the blue figure of Han Solo stood before him, hands on his hips and a scowl on his face.

“Well?”

New, painful tears welled in Luke’s eyes, and he tried to blink them back, only to feel them run hot down his cheeks. “Han.”

The older man’s expression softened, and he crouched down, putting himself at eye level with Luke. “Hey, Luke.”

Luke choked by a sob and covered his face with his flesh hand. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Luke laughed, strangled and too high. “You’re _dead!”_

“Yeah.”

“It was my fault!”

“Did you stab me?”

Luke dropped his hand to glare through red-rimmed eyes. “You know what I mean!”

“It wasn’t your fault, Luke.” Han shook his head. “Snoke corrupted him. You did your best.”

Luke squeezed his hand into a fist, ragged nails biting into the flesh of his palm. “Did I? I could argue that.”

“You could argue a lot of things,” Han groused.

“Gets it from his mother,” Anakin muttered, drawing an incredulous snort from Ben.

“Boys,” Luke’s mother said warningly, making both Jedi duck their heads. It was such a sight, Luke couldn’t help the short burst of laughter that bubbled up. Han grinned crookedly at him.

“You’d never believe how much they do that, kid.”

Luke raised an eyebrow, and then wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Speaking of, are you aware that you are a Force Ghost, Han?”

Han’s expression became pinched. “Don’t you start.”

“Don’t start what, Mr. ‘It’s Just Luck and Good Timing’?”

Han scowled and jabbed a finger at Luke’s chest. “Watch it, kid, I’ve got ghost powers now. I will haunt your ass, just watch.”

Luke’s laughter was high and bright, with an edge of exhaustion, but it still made the ghosts around him smile. Luke closed his eyes, tipped his head back, and let himself laugh. It was a bit like crying, laughter. A rush, a purge, letting everything out at once. It left him feeling momentarily light, and the ache of heartbreak that had been burning in his chest since he first laid illusory eyes on Leia, so far away, all alone, his beautiful, amazing sister, had finally receded, just a little.

When his laughter finally faded, there were two new presences in the group gathered around him; one familiar, one strange to him. Opening his eyes, Luke’s gaze fell on the hunched form of his second teacher.

Behind him and Ben stood a tall man, taller even than his father. He looked human, with long hair, a crooked nose that spoke of a nasty break in his past, and serene eyes. When he saw Luke looking at him, he smiled.

Luke turned back to Yoda and bowed his head. “Master Yoda.”

Yoda huffed, and tapped Luke’s nose with the end of his stick. “Stubborn and brash you are, Skywalker, even now. Just like your parents, you are, and like Obi-Wan.”

The man at his side coughed, poorly concealing his laughter, earning him dirty looks from Ben and Yoda alike. “Worst of them all, you are, Master Jinn,” Yoda groused, gesturing with his stick. “Started this all, you and your stubbornness did.”

The man coughed again, but did not fully banish the smile from his lips. “I would be happy to argue the semantics of that with you, Master Yoda, but I doubt this is neither the appropriate time nor place.”

Yoda harrumphed, and but his clawed hand on Luke’s shoulder, beside Ben’s. More warmth filled Luke, and the leaden cold in his limbs began to fade.

The tall man, Master Jinn, had been engaged in some sort of silent conversation with Ben, but he turned, and bowed his head to Luke, still smiling that soft, secret smile that reminded Luke of when he had first met Ben, back on Tatooine, in the Jundland Wastes.

“We have never met, but I have watched you for a long time, Luke.” There was something about his voice that made Luke think of green, growing things, and when he laid his hand on top of Ben’s, he felt like it too. “My name is Qui-Gon Jinn. Obi-Wan was my student. It is a pleasure to properly meet you at last.”

Luke blinked. “You as well.” He looked at Ben. “I thought you said Yoda trained you.”

Ben’s face was shameless. “He did, in a way, at times. And Qui-Gon could hardly have trained you, any more than I could have at that point.”

Jinn was still smiling. He seemed utterly unflappable.

Han’s hand slipped into Luke’s hair, his own, unmistakable warmth trickling from his fingers. His mother still held his hand, and his father sat at her side, holding Luke’s knee. Six hands, all leaking warmth into him, strengthening him, and Luke could feel the cold and exhaustion being pushed from him. It was a silent process, and Luke closed his eyes, letting the last of his walls fall to them.

Finally, Yoda sighed, and Luke felt his hand lift. Jinn’s followed shortly after, and after another moment, Ben squeezed, and then let go. Han’s fingers left his hair, but he hovered close, brushing against Luke’s shoulder.

His parents did not let go.

Slowly, Luke opened his eyes. He felt…whole, again, in a way he hadn’t in…years. Since the destruction of his Temple. He let out a long breath.

When he looked up, his parents were smiling at him.

“How are you feeling?” Anakin asked.

Luke smiled back, and it felt easy in a way it hadn’t since before he’d first arrived on the island. “Better.” He hesitated. “I thought…I thought it was my time.”

Sadness crept into Anakin’s eyes, and he shook his head. “Not yet. You are still needed here. Rey needs you. Your sister needs you.”

Luke could not ignore the pang of guilt that sparked in his chest at that. “I left her…”

“You know she forgives you,” his mother said gently.

I almost left her twice.”

“So go to her now,” Jinn said, and Luke dragged his eyes away from the figures of his parents to look up at him. The man had his hands tucked into the ghostly sleeves of his robe, and still looked utterly unfazed by the galaxy around him. His voice rang with surety and knowledge, and suddenly Luke was no longer surprised that it was this man, and not Yoda, who had trained Ben.

“You cannot alter the past,” Jinn went on. “So you must learn to embrace the now. Live in the moment, Luke Skywalker. Do not allow yourself to fade away into the past.” His expression flickered, and for the briefest moment, old grief coloured his expression. “That will never truly bring you peace.”

Luke swallowed, nodding slowly. They were right, all of them. He had wasted away on Ach-To for too long. He had a responsibility, to the galaxy, and to the Resistance. To Leia.

When he rose to his feet, it was slow, and his joints creaked, but he rose, nevertheless. Slowly, he looked at the half-circle of figures around him; friends, family, teachers, unseen guardians.

Luke bowed.

“Thank you.”

Anakin grinned, wide and bright. “I’ll introduce you to your grandmother sometime. Ahsoka too. They’re with your sister right now. So no more closing yourself off from the Force. Got that?”

Luke nodded, smiling. “Yes, Father.”

Anakin hummed, pleased, and stepped back a little, Padme following. They did not vanish completely, just waited, and watched.

Jinn gave Luke a warm smile. “You will be fine, Luke Skywalker. Of that, I have no doubt.”

Luke bowed to him again. “Thank you, Master. It was an honour to meet you.”

Jinn returned the gesture, still smiling, and then with a last moment of eye contact with Ben, faded away.

Yoda was next. Grumbling, he eyed Luke for a moment longer, before smacking his shin with his stick. “Much talk, already we have had. Know all I have to say you do. Stubborn you are, but stubbornness, need it you will. Strong, you are.” He nodded, looking almost pleased. “Yes, yes, strong.”

He jabbed Luke in the chest. “Listen to your sister. More sensible she is. Remember that you should.”

Rubbing his chest, Luke nodded, barely managing to restrain his smile. “Yes, Master Yoda.”

The ancient Jedi huffed, nodded once, and then vanished without further pleasantries.

“Typical,” Anakin muttered, but Ben was laughing, as he stepped forward to stand face to face with Luke.

For a long moment, neither spoke. Ben seemed to search Luke’s face. At last, he smiled.

“You have done well, Luke.” Ben’s eyes were soft, and a little sad. “Your path has been dark. Far darker than any of us hoped for you and your sister. But despite that, you have done well, and I am…very, very proud of you.”

For a moment, Luke could do nothing but swallow back the lump of old grief that swelled in his throat for the man who he had hardly known, but had love, and still did, nevertheless. “Ben, I….thank you.”

Ben smiled and reached out to lay a translucent hand on Luke’s shoulder. “May the Force be with you, Padawan.”

Luke smiled back, even as the older man began to fade away. “And with you, Master.”

When Obi-Wan was gone, Luke turned to Han. The man didn’t move, but shifted his weight from foot to foot and gave Luke a lopsided grin.

“I guess it’s my turn to get all sappy, huh?”

Luke could not help his answering grin. “Well, you don’t _have_ to but—”

“Shut up, Kid.”

Hugs from Force ghosts were not quite like hugs from the living. There was no mass behind them, and Han was not so solid looking that Luke could not see through him, but still. He could feel the memory of Han’s warmth, an echo of the scent of mechanical oil and brandy that had always clung to his clothes. It was almost as good as the real thing.

“Take care of her for me?” Han whispered, quiet enough that Luke almost missed the way his voice shook. “Not that she can’t take care of herself but…you know what she’s like. She’d forget to eat if she wasn’t reminded.”

Luke laughed, though the sound came out a little choked. “Yeah, I remember. I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you. And…could you tell her…I love her? And that I’m sorry for being such an ass.”

He had to blink back sudden tears. “I’ll tell her.”

Han pulled back, clearing his throat. “Good. I…uh…thanks.” He crossed his arms and scowled. “And kid?”

“Yeah Han?”

Han pointed a finger. “I’m not around to save your ass anymore. So watch yourself. I don’t want to see you around here,” he waved his other hand vaguely, “In crazy ghost central anytime soon, got it?”

Luke nodded. “Got it.”

“Good.” And, with a noticeably Yoda-ish grumble, Han faded away.

Luke stayed there, watching up he was gone, then for a moment longer. At last, he sighed, smiled, and turned.

His parents were waiting for him.

They stood together, shoulder to shoulder, holding hands and smiling at him. When Luke turned to them, they moved closer.

“They’ve kind of said it all already,” his father laughed. His mother smiled and stepped away from Anakin, to move to Luke. They were about the same height, Luke realized.

Gently she cupped his face. “I’m so proud of you, Luke. You and your sister.”

“Mother…”

Her eyes were warm, but strong as steel. “You are Anakin’s son, but you are my son as well. Remember that.”

He nodded. “I will.”

“Good.” She pressed a kiss to the center of his forehead, leaving behind a point of warmth on his skin.

They both glanced up as Anakin drew near, only for him to wrap his arms around them both. “Someday,” he murmured, “When it truly is your time, I will be able to do this properly. But that time is not now.”

Pulling away and taking Padme’s hand, he smiled at Luke, and Luke was reminded of the first time he had seen his father smile; tired and pained, but true.

“Until then, my son, keep fighting. Keep being the light. Don’t give up.”

Luke took a deep breath, and stood up straight, feeling the Force around them flicker and dance as the figures of his parents began to fade away.

“I will, Father.”

 

Luke stood there for a while, after they were gone. The suns had set, and the water surrounding his island was inky dark, reflecting the stars like pieces of kyber. Slowly, Luke breathed in, then out.

Then, he turned, dusting off his robes as he began the trek back to his home. He had preparations to make.

It was time for him to go home.


End file.
